


Ordinary People

by bmlhillenkeene



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Supernatural
Genre: 100 writing prompt challenge, All Human AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aziraphale is Ezra Fell, Aziraphale&Bobby friendship, Aziraphale-Antique Bookshop owner/ex-solicitor, Bobby-Editor/Publicist, Crowley-Author, M/M, Multi, not quite a kink meme fill, sort of a threesome but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-12 15:45:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2115627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bmlhillenkeene/pseuds/bmlhillenkeene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off a Prompt on the Kink Meme. (thought my idea differs a lot!) Good Omens!Crowley is the Crowley of this story, because I love him the most.</p>
<p>Bobby Singer has finally gotten promoted from his too small cubicle, to become the main editor/publicist to up and coming author AJ Crowley, who the company think will make it big. Bobby doesn't expect to develop feelings for a man he's only met once and kept in contact with by phone and email. </p>
<p>He most certaintly doesn't expect that Crowley, already in a happy, comitted relationship with antique bookshop owner Ezra Fell, to fall for him either.</p>
<p>And he is shocked to discover that Ezra Fell, ex solicitor, and possibly the most frightening man Bobby will even encounter, despite his seeming good nature, is perfectly happy to open his home, life and lover, to a man he's never met, and is not, himself, interested in.</p>
<p>This is definately no ordinary situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> While this was inspired by a Kink Meme prompt, I also wanted to try writing a chapter per Writing Challenge, where there are 100 word prompts. I can only hope I manage to pull this off. lol.

Bobby Singer had only met Anthony J Crowley once before. When he had taken over as his editor and publicist. The man wad ten years his junior, dressed in a sharp suit and sporting a pair of sunglasses indoors that put Bobby in mind of a mobster from the movies. He was half expecting an Italian accent to complete the ensemble, and was thrown by the soft Scottish brogue that broke through a carefully constructed London accent.

They’d met in Bobby’s new office, a huge step up from the cupboard he had been using for years, racking up the hours and experience that would land him a novelist who just might have the potential to become a best seller.

He hadn’t been sure of Crowley at first; the man was the antithesis of any writer he’d encountered before, all loose clothing, wild hair and nervous energy. But then, Bobby had been left trawling through the dregs of submissions sent to the publishing house, so perhaps he shouldn’t judge. He hadn’t even had the chance to read through the manuscript he was supposed to whip into sellable shape, he’d been pulled into position so suddenly and the meeting set up so quickly that he’d barely had time to learn the name of his ‘Top Project’ as his supervisor called Crowley.

In all fairness his opinion of Crowley didn’t really change, despite being disabused of the ‘Mafia’ idea, he remained half convinced that Crowley was involved in some sort of organised crime. There was an odd, slimy sort of a way about him that put Bobby’s back up a bit.

He’d settled into working out the details of the contract the aspiring author would be entering into, surreptitiously reading what he could of the books synopsis so that he did not appear to be completely out of the loop as he did. Contracts were one of the things he worked with regularly, so it was easy to rattle of the terms of agreement, on both sides.

Crowley surprised him by being very up to date on the legalise involved, and asking very pointed questions that may have caught a less knowledgeable man off guard. At his apprising look, which must have shown very clearly on his face Crowley had laughed.

“My partner was a solicitor once upon a time, talked me though some stuff.” 

Bobby didn’t question further, and the meeting continued easily, and at the end of it Crowley left with the contract, with the promise to return it signed just as soon as he’d had his partner read through it, and Bobby was left with the impression that this man really believed that his book would sell, and sell very well.

He could only hope that the book itself would stand up to scrutiny, because Bobby prided himself on being very good at what he did, and even if it meant his demotion back to the cupboard, he was putting the manuscript through the absolute ringer.

~*~

Two days later the contract arrived on his desk, recorded delivery, sealed, signed and witnessed. And Bobby had never been so glad to see a contract in his life, because the book was just that good (and it killed him just a little to admit it)

He hadn’t been expecting what he’s read, a thrilling historical adventure story that balanced dangerously on the edge of outright blasphemy against nearly every known religion on the planet, with a near beautiful mixture of humour and drama, with a cast of characters Bobby had found himself identifying with easily. 

It wasn’t going to an easy book to sell, not with the climate of the world as it was, where religion, politics and everything else were twisted up tight in each other, but if he did it right, this could be one of the top bestsellers next year. And he was going to do it right.

From then all his correspondence with Crowley had been via email or phone, making arrangements, discussing publishing decisions, and editorial issues to make the book into everything it truly could be.

Somewhere inside the to and fro, Bobby found himself enjoying Crowley’s dry wit, and soon the conversations they had were not always about work, or the book, but about other things, and before Bobby knew it he was in severe denial over a growing ‘something pretty damn close to attraction’. 

It had started the same way with Karen.

He had been married once, fifteen years ago, happily as far as he had been concerned, right up until she’d died, taking what would have been Bobby’s daughter with her, complications that even the best doctor in the world would not have been able to save them from. He had buried himself in his work. Years and opportunities had passed him by, so when he realised, a number of months into the subtle and not so subtle flirting, he figured he could be forgiven for missing the signs and did his best from then on to stamp out the odd feelings.

He didn’t think much of the ‘homosexuality’ thing, he was too old it felt like to care about that. Losing Karen had left a hole no other woman could hope to fill. In fact, whatever feelings he was *not* having for his client (and he really needed to get a handle on them), were probably nothing more than some sort of transference thing. Once past the snakelike exterior, Crowley was more than a little like Karen. 

There was also the not so small fact that Crowley was in a committed partnership with a former solicitor. Crowley mentioned the other man in passing often enough that Bobby could tell they were happily committed to each other, so the flirting was likely unintentional, on Crowley’s part. But even so, despite knowing this he found himself unable to be as professional as he should have been.

This went on for six months, while the publishing process wound it’s slow way, while Bobby worked hard to set up book reviews and interviews in local papers, and book signings, because he needed to have everything ready to roll out when the book hit the shelves in stores, to bring publicity to it as soon as possible

~*~

Of course, none of that really helped to explain why, the day after the book had been rolled out into store; he was waking up in an unfamiliar room, head pounding with the remnants of a hangover worthy of the gods after a night of hard, celebratory drinking. He’d called Crowley that he did remember, with the figures for the first day’s sales, much higher than had been expected, all his careful publicity before the event baring fruit.

He remembered being invited out for a drink to celebrate. Which had ended, somehow, with his second face to face meeting with one AJ Crowley, ten years his junior, who looked a little like an old style gangster in his flash suit and sunglasses, in bed together after far, far too much alcohol.

He didn’t know how long he’d been staring stupidly at the sleeping face of Crowley, before the tense, confused silence was broken by the door of the room opening, and the tousled blond head of Ezra Fell, Crowley’s partner, committed (in a ceremony and everything) life partner, popped round the door.

“Ah, good, you’re awake.” He said, voice light and breezy, no condemnation in his tone at all, no indication of just how he felt to see his lover in bed with another man. “Would you care to join me for some tea?”

Blue eyes settled on his squarely, cataloguing him in the way a librarian does a school child setting foot in a library for the first time, seizing him up and deciding whether he would be permitted to take another step forward. “Do try not to wake Anthony,” Ezra continued, mouth quirking into an odd sort of smile, fond almost, “He hasn’t been sleeping much these last few days.”

And then he was gone, and all Bobby could think was “Oh Shit!”


	2. Complicated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm... the title of this chappie is Complicated, and it certaintly is very complicated. 
> 
> Having a hangover doesn't help understand at all... 
> 
> I do hope people won't be too disappointed by my interpretation of Aziraphale and Crowley in this.

Bobby hesitated outside the kitchen, feeling wretched. It wasn't just the headache. He had done something he had sworn up and down, backwards and forwards and sideways that he wouldn't do. It was unforgivable. He was aware, of course, that it wasn't just him, Crowley himself had a lot to answer for; but that was something between Crowley and Ezra (it was difficult to think of the other man by another name, having only really heard of him through Crowley). All Bobby could do was try and explain his side of things, he owed the man he could hear puttering about the kitchen that much.  
He did spare a thought for Ezra's odd reaction in the bedroom, but chalked it up to not wanting to cause a scene in front of the man who was wrecking his marriage, well, civil partnership. How terribly British of him.

"Do you take tea or coffee?"

The mild voice startled him and he looked up from his musing too find himself face to face with Crowley's partner, who was studying him with a surprisingly warm expression. Bobby couldn't help but wonder if this was a more common situation that he'd thought. Was this a man who had to put up with a lovers constant infidelity to the point where he felt sympathy with the other person?

"I'm quite partial to a good hot chocolate myself." Ezra continued mildly, holding the door open and waving Bobby inside. "Come in, come in. I do rather think we should talk."

"Yeah," Bobby said roughly, "we prob'ly should."

He found himself sitting at the homely kitchen table that seemed terribly out of place in the streamlined modern kitchen around it, a lot like how odd it seemed for a man like Ezra Fell to be with Crowley. It was an odd thought, and Bobby kept it to himself, taking a drink from the black coffee that had been set in front of him.

"Now." Ezra said, his own milky coffee steaming in front of him. "I find it's sometimes better to get the difficult topics out of the way first." Bobby felt a part of him shrink inside; abruptly remembering that this man had once been a solicitor, the English equivalent of a lawyer, and if he was so inclined him could ruin him. "So, about Anthony."

"Don't worry." Bobby said immediately. "I'm not sure exactly what happened, but whatever it was it won't happen again. I'll arrange for someone else to take over his contract with us.” he should have done that when he first realised he berated himself silently.

"My dear fellow, why on earth would you do that?" Ezra seemed genuinely shocked. Bobby couldn’t help the confused look he shot at the perplexing man, who was not behaving in any way Bobby could get a read on. Ezra sighed. "Ah. I should have known Anthony would end up talking around the subject. He does have a terrible tendency to avoid awkward conversations." he shook his head and took a drink of his coffee as if that explained everything.

Maybe it was the hangover that was still clinging to the sides off his brain, but Bobby was growing even more confused as each second of silence passed and nothing the other man had said made any sense. "What are you talking about?" he asked at last, unable to take it.

"Anthony has grown rather fond of you of late. In fact, besotted might be a better description." Ezra said this easily, with a smile. "I feel like I know you rather well myself with how much he talks about your. Probably about as well as your feel you know me I'm sure."

"So what?" Bobby said uncomfortably, because that was very true, too true. "So he slept with me and you're just ok with that? Was this some way off getting me out of his system?" Bobby's voice got gruffer and he started to get angry. It felt like the whole thing was set up just to make him feel like an utter fool, and guilt and anger at the whole situation seemed to be his alone.

"Dear me no!" Ezra said surprised. "If anything I'm sure sleeping with you would make him even more enamoured. And you didn't, by the way, have sex with him."

Bobby was caught on the off step. Now more confused than ever, and it must have shown very clearly on his face because Ezra sighed again, setting his mug down on the table and folding his hands together on the table.

"I am not an easy man to live with." he said with stark honesty. "I'm far too frequently involved in my own pursuits. It is one of the reasons Anthony took up writing in the first place, especially the historical religious side of things, so that I would spend more time with him. Too much of our relationship, and we have been together for a very long time mind, has been him fighting for my attention against what probably felt like the world... He gets restless and bored and becomes quite difficult to live without proper attention."

"And what does this have to do with me?" Bobby asked, getting an inkling of what thee man actually meant and not liking it.

"You’ve been giving him rather a lot of the attention that he hasn't been getting from me, and unlike a lot of people he's shown an interest in, you seem to have an interest in him as well."

There was silence for a moment while Bobby’s muddled brain put the pieces together. "Hang on. Hang on!" he grit out, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Are you telling me that it’s ok for me to sleep with your partner? Are you actually trying to push him off on me or something?"

Ezra shrugged. "If your relationship leads to you having sex with each other I certainly don’t mind. But don't get me wrong Mr Singer,” he said, and his tone suddenly grew sharp. "I love Anthony dearly and I am most certainly not intending to 'push him off on you'. But I can acknowledge my own failings, and I know myself well enough to know that I'm not going to change. But that is no excuse for not allowing Anthony to have what he needs, and what he needs is more than what I can give him." there was another silence, punctuated only by Ezra lifting his coffee again. "I've looked into your history."

"Huh?" Bobby said, still trying to make the pieces of this ridiculous puzzle make sense, and the meaning of Ezra's words didn't hit him right away. "What? Why?" he said at last, not sure if he should be angry or worried.

"Married once." Ezra continued, undaunted and unrepentant. "You moved to England from America so she could be close to her family and after the tragic circumstances off her death you remained. In the home you had bought together, despite it being somewhat out of your means abalone. That tells me a great deal about you Mr. Singer, a great deal."

"Bobby." Bobby said, defeated, he had the feeling he wouldn't be getting out of this. "Might as well call me Bobby."

Ezra smiled. "Thank you Bobby. Now, I am aware that all of this may seem... well, very invasive, but you need to understand and I hope you can appreciate, that I am not stepping into this lightly. I needed to know that my trust in you would not be misplaced, and that Anthony would not come out the other side more hurt than I would be able to heal. Your past tells me that when you love, you do so completely. You gave up a promising career in America as a lecturer at a university and author yourself, to travel all the way to England for your wife, and after she died you didn't return there, you stayed. There are no indications that you have had any serious relationships since then from what Anthony mentioned of your conversations; any you did embark on ended soon after because the feelings just weren’t there. Which brings me to your interaction with Anthony himself, which has been quite flirtatious on both sides from what I've witnessed. And your reaction this morning my dear, well, it speaks for itself." Ezra reached across to give Bobby's arm a sympathetic pat. "He is rather... well... Let's leave it that I understand completely."

Bobby blinked, looking at the hand on his arm before it withdrew and sucked in a breath. "So your suggesting a threesome?" because he wasn't altogether sure that that was alright with him. He could admit to a... well, he could admit he liked Crowley, more than was probably good for him, but he wasn't about to get entangled in some strange relationship.

Ezra laughed. "Goodness no! I don't have enough time for one lover never mind two." He shook his head, chuckling at the idea of it. "No, what I'm proposing is that you and Anthony engage in whatever relationship you deem suitable for yourselves. The reason I'm bringing it up, is because I need to be sure that you realise it would not be cheating on anyone's part, and there would be no need for guilt or hiding. Obviously it would be very different to any relationship you've had before, there will be times when I want him all to myself, but I'm sure we'd be able to work something out as we go along. And perhaps we might find some kind of friendship in there somewhere. Anthony has a very particular type, so we likely have much in common."

Whatever Bobby’s reply might have been was interrupted by the kitchen door opening and a sleep mussed Crowley stumbling into the room, eyes slitted nearly shut and hand pressed to his head, hangover in full force.

"You’ll need to reboil the kettle dearest." Ezra said with a soft smile.

"Thankssss Angel." Crowley said, hand trailing across Ezra’s shoulders as he passed. 

Bobby shifted minutely in his seat, recalling that slight hiss last night as well, clearing something Crowley slipped into when he was either too drunk, or too tired, to make himself control his lisp. It was an odd mix of adorable and downright sexy. He caught Ezra’s knowing expression across the table and felt himself blush beneath his beard.

There was silence as the kettle popped broken only by the sounds of tea being made. Then Crowley slid into the seat to the left of Bobby, eyes flicking between the two of them, green eyes looking almost yellow under the bright light in the room. “Ssssso, what’sss going on here?”

Ezra gave Bobby a measuring look, but before Bobby could protest, he said. “I was simply discussing the Arrangement with Bobby here.”  
Yellowish eyes flicked between them again, and Bobby was surprised to see something close to panic there. “Angel, you didn’t!” he said at last, though his eyes stopped, fixed to Bobby’s face.

“I did.” Ezra said simply, but with an undercurrent of steel that told Bobby very clearly just who was actually in charge of this relationship. He had thought, what felt like a very long time ago, before he had actually spoken with the other man, that it was Crowley who called the shots, he seemed the type. 

“I did,” Ezra continued, softer. “Because if I left it to you my dear things would never change, and I’ve had enough of you making yourself unhappy over me.”

Crowley flushed, eyes leaving Bobby’s face to flick to Ezra. “I’m not unhappy.”

Bobby wasn’t sure he should still be here, witnessing this, but he found himself unable to make himself speak or move. But thankfully the conversation went no further, because he wasn’t sure exactly how it might have gone, and the last thing he wanted was to be caught up in it.

“For now though I believe I’ve given Mr. Singer quite enough to think about.” Ezra pushed back the chair he was sitting on and got to his feet. “I’m afraid I have to get to the shop. I believe I have a new book that needs to be sorted into my ever growing modern collection.” It was said with a quiet sort of pride, and the hand that pressed to Crowley’s shoulder exuded affection, and Crowley’s face twisted into a scowl to try and hide his pleased expression.

And then Ezra was gone, and the air in the kitchen ratcheted up to full tension as both men within tried to think of something to say.

It was Bobby who found his words first. “Interesting guy your partner.”

Crowley’s scowled deepened a little. “Interesting is one way to put it.” He said it in a way that implied he could easily come up with a thousand less amicable words to describe Ezra. “Look, about what he said-“

“Yeah.” Bobby said when he didn’t continue.

Crowley sighed, setting the tea down onto the table. “Come on, I’ll see you to the door, this is probably the last place you want to be just now.” And he got up, looking a little shakier than he had walking in.

Bobby just nodded, because that was all he could do.

At the door there was some awkward shuffling. Crowley’s hand on the door, his back tense. He abruptly turned back to Bobby, taking the older man by surprise. “For the record,” he said, eyes narrowed, challenging. “I don’t sssleep around and I didn’t put Ezra up to any of-of what he sssaid to you. But it is sssssomething we’ve talked about, and you’re the firsst person he’sss ever… approved of. If you’re not interessted then it goes no further than here.” He wrenched to door open abruptly, moving to the side to let Bobby out, giving him a clear run for the outside of this mad house.

“Look I-“ Bobby tried, but found words failing him.

“It’sss fine. Don’t worry about it. I ssstill think it ssssounds crazy and I’m the one who agreed to it. Just… if you decide that… well, you know how to reach me.”

Bobby walked home, halfway across London it felt like, hoping his head would clear and the thoughts racing in his head would put themselves into some semblance of order. The whole situation was patently ridiculous. No man just offers his lover to someone else. And what was he supposed to even be? A bed warmer, someone for Crowley to crawl into bed with when Ezra decided he didn’t want him for the night? None of it made any sense at all.

And none of it really stemmed his continuing attraction to Crowley, in fact, some of what Ezra had said made him want to turn around and march right back up to that house and the man inside, though what he would do when he got there he just didn’t know.

When he finally reached his house he snagged some whisky from the kitchen and retreated up the stairs and to his bed, because he clearly needed more sleep, a lot more sleep, and with the thoughts whirling in his head, this would be his only way to get it.

When, and how, had his life got so goddamned complicated?


	3. Making History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow this is actually really ooc... please forgive me, I don't know why I ever started this!

The tiny bell over the door tinkled merrily, announcing a visitor. 

Ezra looked up from his perusal of the newest books he had acquired only just recently from an auction of an old stately home. He smiled warmly when he saw it was Anthony, neatly pressed as always, with his sunglasses perched on his nose, a quick look outside showed that rain was threatening again, and Ezra knew better than anyone how crippling Anthony’s migraines could be when the air pressure changed suddenly. All it took was one reflected light and he was out for the count for three days.

“Do you have any books on the Crusades?”

“I’m sure you know my stock as well as I do.” He answered primly.

“I’m sure I do as well Angel.” Anthony grinned a bit, crossing the empty bookshop to lean against the counter. “But still. Crusades? Anything?”

Ezra shook his head, despairing that still, after all the years he’d owned the bookshop, nearly 10 years, that Anthony still refused to admit that he knew where everything was kept. It was a game they played, one Ezra allowed them to play, because he did, on occasion, feel guilty that he spent so much time here, sometimes days at a time if he became very interested in a particular book he had managed to acquire. Sometimes the only contact he had with Anthony was when the younger man came to the shop under some pretence or other.

“Have you decided on the theme for your next book?” Ezra asked, curious. 

Anthony shrugged. “Sort of. Don’t know if it’ll work well though.”

Which meant, Ezra knew from long experience that he wasn’t sure anyone but himself would find the idea interesting. He had felt the same way about his first book, and it had taken quite a lot of coaxing to convince him to put pen to paper and write it. Ezra could only hope that Bobby Singer would be able to shorten the process by at least 4 years, providing, of course, that the man stopped trying to be so professional.

“Well, do give me some details, I can hardly find you the right sort of books if I don’t know what you’re looking for.” Ezra prompted.

A faint flush crept up Anthony’s next and he coughed, turning his head to hide it. “I was thinking, a look at the crusades through the eyes of a soldier, or knight, or a priest maybe, who finds himself privy to the conversations of an angel and a demon, a literal angel and demon on his shoulder, and how he comes to realise that the crusades themselves actually go against the very basic principles laid down by the god he is supposedly fighting in the name of. In fact, everything that’s been done is human, with no divine or satanic influence at all.”

He coughed again. “It’s only a rough idea. I don’t really know how the angel and the demon would really fit in. I mean I could do away with the soldier entirely and just have it as the angel and demons view of a crusade that neither had any influence over, and neither of them like what the world is becoming… Something.”

Ezra nodded thoughtfully. “The Fourth Crusade maybe. The sacking of Constantinople. That was a fairly well known event you could use as a starting point, very bloody. I don’t think I have anything from the period itself, but I could probably source something for you if you needed it.”

“Nah, just anything will do for now.”

Ezra smoothed a hand across the spines of the books, looking intently at the titles he knew by heart before finally deciding on the most accurate history he had of the time, pulling it out smoothly and handing it to Anthony, who took it delicately.

“How go things with Mr. Singer?” he asked suddenly, because the question needed to be asked.

Anthony shrugged. “Books doing well. He thinks it might actually hit bestseller if we do it right, maybe not this year, but next year.”

“Have you mentioned the new book to him yet?” Ezra prompted.

Anthony gave him a look, spoiled by the sunglasses in the way. “No, not yet.”

“You should. And while you’re at it you can tell him to stop being so *American* and stop avoiding you. Honestly, I’ll never understand how such a supposedly accepting and liberal country can be filled with such prudes.”

That startled a laugh out of Anthony, who Ezra knew had been about to launch into some kind of defence of the absent man. Ezra mused on the situation and wondered if maybe he shouldn’t try speaking with Bobby again. It wouldn’t do to let this go on for too long.

“Don’t Angel.” Anthony said, reading his intent on his face easily.

“Don’t what my dear?” Ezra asked, going for confused. “I have no intention of doing anything.”

“Lair.” Anthony accused, but with a fond smile. “Not everyone is as open as we are. I’m lucky he didn’t just fob me off to another agent at the company.”

Ezra waved his hand, dismissing the notion. “He wouldn’t. He’s far too fond of you for that. Now, are you staying for some tea?” he didn’t drink tea often himself, but Anthony liked it, so he kept a good stock on hand.

“Sure. And a kiss of you can spare it.” Anthony said, cheekily.

Ezra smiled in return. “Have you done something recently to deserve a kiss?” he asked, teasing himself.

Anthony struck a self-important pose. “I’m very nearly a world famous author you know.” He said, stiffly.

Ezra reached out, tugging the sunglasses away until he could see his lover’s eyes, and leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. Resolving that he would speak again with Bobby Singer, because Anthony deserved everything that he wanted, and after so long and so much hardship, Ezra was going to make sure he got it.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the Prompt from the Kink Meme.  
> [  
> So I've been reading Good Omens, and reading all the fics I can about Spn/GO crossovers where Crowley is the same in both, and if that were true (which for the purposes of this prompt it is), then Bobby is totally Crowley's type.
> 
> So can I please have some Aziraphale/Crowley/Bobby interaction and loving. I don't want Aziraphale and Bobby to be attracted to each other romantically. Aziraphale is just indulging his dear Demon's fascination with this human, and the two bond over books and booze and the Demon they share between them.
> 
> I don't want Bobby and Aziraphale to be jealous of each other, in fact if they get to be good friends that would be cool. I just want some interaction between the three.
> 
> Scenes I'd love to see;
> 
> 1\. Bobby asking Aziraphale why it doesn't feel *wrong* to have feelings for the Demon, despite the evil he does.  
> 2\. Crowley getting jealous of the two bonding over old books and ignoring him (sulking while tending his potted plants would be adorable while loudly announcing all the very evil things he intends to do) until they show him how much they love him.  
> 3\. Some BAMF Aziraphale and Bobby coming to Crowley's rescue. The more hurt Crowley is the better.  
> 4\. Crowley introducing the two for the first time, because he can hardly lie to either of them (well, he could, but the angel would know he was lying and then demand to meet Bobby anyway, so it's just easier to introduce them at the start of the whole thing)  
> 5\. One, or both, of them blame Crowley for some wrong doing he wasn't actually involved in, and find out they were wrong by someone else telling them after the fact, and they have to make it up to him.  
> 6\. Aziraphale and Bobby trying to do something sex related with each other out of curiosity when Crowley is otherwise engaged elsewhere and end up drinking and laughing about how terribly bad it was and deciding they are far better as just friends  
> ]


End file.
